


For Coppertellurium

by Master_of_the_Rebels



Series: Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, alfred makes cookies, for justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_of_the_Rebels/pseuds/Master_of_the_Rebels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Dick and Tim play Rock Paper Scissors over something they both want but can't split.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Coppertellurium

"Spatula, Master Timothy?" Tim glanced up from his schoolwork, eyes lighting up at the sight of the kitchen utensil offered before him.  It was coated in a thick layer of batter from the spice cookies Alfred had been preparing.  The man's eyes were smiling; he always added extra to the spatula because he knew how much his charges enjoyed it.

"Absolutely." Tim reached immediately for the proffered treat, but stopped when a scandalized gasp echoed from the doorway.

"Alfred!  What about me?" The pair turned to face a pouting Dick, who was looking everything short of outright betrayed by the interaction before him.

Frowning, Alfred pulled back, causing Tim to make a dismayed noise in his throat and only furthering the older man's indecision.  "Unfortunately, I have only one spatula, Master Richard." Dick's bottom lip quivered, and Alfred nearly flinched at the pathetic face.

"But you promised I could have the batter next time you baked cookies. Don't you remember?  You gave it to Damian last time." Dick pushed into the kitchen, cattily smacking Tim's still-extended hand out of the air and earning himself a sharp glare.

"Don't be such a child, Dick.  I was here first." Tim leaned forward over the counter for the spatula, but Dick shoulder-bumped him back into his seat roughly.  "Dick!  What the hell!" Tim cracked his knuckles unconsciously, more than ready to fight over it.  Alfred's batter was God.

Well aware of the mass chaos about to ensue in his domain, Alfred set the spatula back into the bowl and stepped forward.  "Boys, perhaps a compromise can be reached?  What if both of you shared the spatula?"

Dick seemed to consider this, but Tim's face gravely protested.  "I am not licking something that has his spit on it.  I might get germs."

"Wow.  Nice.  You tell all the girls you like that they have cooties, too?" Dick scowled at Tim's stubbornness.  "And you say I'm the child here."

"Masters—"

"I'm not the one who apparently doesn't know the basic rule of first come, first serve!"

"It's called sharing, Tim!  It's what family does!"

"Sirs, I do think—"

"Why would I share when it was clearly mine to begin with? You're just being obnoxious!"

"Oh, that's rich!  Alfred promised me ages ago, so by your logic, it should be mine!”

"Master Richard, Master Timo—"

"That is total crap!  You can't call it in advance!"

"Try me!"

"Gentlemen!" Alfred's shout echoed through the pristine kitchen, and the arguing brats froze in shock.  The man rarely raised his voice, and his wizened face was a flustered rouge. "If you don't mind, I've had about enough of this frenzy in my kitchen." The young men hung their heads, properly chastised, and Alfred sniffed airily.  "Now, I do think that this problem can be resolved civilly." He stared at them expectantly, but when no intelligent response was forthcoming, he sighed and expounded, "I believe there is a game of hands that can settle this." 

Tim's mouth shut with a click of revelation, while Dick grinned.  "Perfect!" He whirled on his younger brother, hands already out.  "Landing on shoot.  Let's go."

Tim morphed into position determinedly, and both men found centered stances.  Alfred chuckled as he watched the preparation for the most serious game of Rock, Paper, Scissors he had ever witnessed.

"Rock! Paper! Scissors! Shoot!" There voices sounded off loudly against the walls, arms jerking in forceful movements.

"Yes! Win!" Dick fist pumped in the air while Tim glowered at his crushed scissors.

"Best two out of three," he demanded. Dick's eyes narrowed at the order.

"Only sore losers prolong the inevitable, Timmy."

"Just do it!"

"Fine, fine." Dick slid back into place, and the words were called once again.

"Hah!  In your face, Tim!" Dick snagged the spatula as Alfred held it out with a smile.  Tim looked devastated, and Dick clapped him on the shoulder.  "Maybe you should work on your hand-eye coordination, Timmy."

Tim's eyes widened with sudden realization at those words, and when Dick went to lift the spatula to his mouth, Tim hit the man's elbow with a great enough force that the utensil launched off course, batter smearing straight up Dick's nose.  A squawk of stunned anger emitted from the assaulted man, and Dick looked in disbelief at Tim staring him down.  "You cheater!" Tim yelled, fury rolling off of his words. 

Dick could only gawk for a few seconds before his mouth set in a firm line, and, not giving any warning, he slapped the spatula lightly across Tim's face, spreading the remaining batter across the speechless teen's cheek. 

Alfred had no time to save the container of flour as Tim's too-quick hands reached in for a handful and chucked it at Dick's sputtering face.  Dick yelped as the cloud of white descended upon him, and he groped blinding for retaliation, settling on an egg and cracking it over Tim's hair.

Realizing the fight was fast dissolving into pure disaster, Alfred wisely opted to leave them to it.  He would order them to clean up later after their lapse in maturity had ceased.  He snuck out to the sound and sight of Dick laughing joyously as Tim leapt over the countertop with a softened stick of butter in hand for a weapon. 


End file.
